It's Tough Being a Hero
by Kryzanna
Summary: Being a Hero of Albion is a serious job. Well, sometimes.


Hi there! Yes, you read the tags correctly; "Fable AU". I've been playing Fable: The Lost Chapters recently, and it's got me in the mood for an alternate universe! I'm hoping for this to be a series of oneshots of our Heroes and their quests, encounters and daily lives. Hopefully things will make sense even if you're not familiar with the game, and if you HAVE played the game, I do apologise for inconsistencies.

That being said; please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basket or Fable

* * *

The lights of the Barrow Fields were a sight that would never get old. Their soft, welcoming glimmer in the distance was enough to warm even the weariest traveller; reassuring them that the forest was behind them and the safety of home ahead. Here, the grass grew green and soft, and birds and men sang without fear, and for the first time in what felt like far too many days, Kuroko Tetsuya allowed himself to relax. Here, the wind smelled fresh and clean, and the merry laughter that it carried so invitingly through the night made him smile as he ventured on.

Even at this time of twilight the marketplace was filled with torchlight, and bustling with busy traders, and bards seeking some quick gold for their songs. All manner of adventurers, too, were gathered around campfires; exchanging goods and tales and drinking until whatever misfortunes they had encountered on the road were far behind them. It would have been nice to join them –to sink into a shadow by the fireside and hear them gossip and tell of their adventures, and hear the bards sing of heroes in distant places. But although the nights had been long, and despite the weariness weighing down his bones, his heart felt lighter at the promise of home; so close now.

So instead of moving towards the fires, Kuroko's pale eyes turned towards the distance, where the faintest flickerings of new pinpricks of light were starting to become visible. His eyes softened warmly in the moonlight, and with steps that made no sound in the dirt, he ventured away from the dancing torches to be swallowed up by the shadows. And eventually, the sounds of merriment from the camp began to fade, leaving the night in gentle silence.

The road was empty, and well-trodden and familiar in the way one knows an old friend. Kuroko let the wind tousle his hood back off his face and drank in the breeze, fresh with the earthy scent of the woods and a briny hint of sea foam.

And lacking the dirty tang of smoke and iron and blood.

After the stone city landscapes and the depths of dark, bloody woods in far-off lands…it was refreshing to return to Oakvale. Unlike the Barrow Fields, which were alive and wakeful through all hours, the township, at this time of night, slept. It was quaint, and quiet, and in the night's silence, Kuroko could hear the sound of waves rolling upon the beach at their leisure.

All was still in the night. A lone lantern hung outside the tavern; still open for business even though its usual patrons had long since departed for bed. Kuroko paused a moment as he passed the doorway; barely casting a shadow upon its threshold, and his presence going unnoticed by the man tending to the bar. A large scorch mark on the old wooden doorframe caught his eye, and as he ran a hand down the beam with a kind of fondness, he allowed himself a small chuckle.

But there would be another time for nostalgia; the moon was starting its descent and he was long overdue for some rest. Life in the wild –even for a shadow like him –could be dangerous and sleepless, and rife with enemies. And the weight of the blood that stained the clothes in his satchel did not make sleep come easy.

Being a Hero wasn't exactly always as glamourous as the songs led children to believe.

He followed one of the dirt roads that led through town and beyond; to where there were the beginnings of fields and where the houses could look out over the ocean. Tonight the water was blissfully calm, and paired with the handsome red-gold of Oakvale's fall; it really did make for a breath-taking sight.

But it was not for the view that he had travelled this far.

The road was windy and uneven –less weathered than the others. Some strangers still passed through this way, of course; traders, bards and herdsmen, and even Heroes, who still remembered the way.

Kuroko remembered.

His legs were aching and his stomach growling, and his clothes and hair had seen better days, but his feet still carried him; strangely nimble despite his blisters –carried him with practiced ease across each bump and dip in the road. His calculating gaze searched the distance; straining against the night.

Along this road, there lay an inn; old, dark oak, and for a long time in disrepair. When Kuroko was younger, he had often passed through this part of the world and seen it standing there; lonely and forgotten; but somehow, in its own way…dignified. It had tirelessly withstood storms and quakes, and each time Kuroko passed it by, he had been stricken by how patient it had always seemed; like it was waiting for something.

It wasn't until much later; when he was older and he and the other apprentices had departed the Guild for the world, and he came to these parts to find that the inn had been put up for sale, that he realised it was waiting for someone –anyone –to fill its halls with cheer. Someone to call it home.

Only when Kuroko could see the outline of the building coming steadily into focus, did he finally allow the weariness from his travels to seep into his bones. Relief washed over him; and his lips softened into a grateful; tired smile.

It looked the same as when he'd left –the same as it had every time he'd left, and every time he'd returned –save that the plants had shed their summer coats. Even the window shutters were still open; it had still been warm when he'd departed. Nowadays, the building's dark wood was well kept; its old wounds having long since healed; although scorch-marks –not unlike those that stained the tavern's doorway –marred its porch, and Kuroko had never had the heart to remove them.

It was reassuring; to return and find not a nail out of place, however at the same time…the thought made his smile dim slightly.

"I'm back," he whispered quietly to no one in particular; like he always did, to fill this kind of silence –the kind of silence that the building would greet him with; welcoming him back with open arms and empty halls. Midnight would have taken up residence inside; the open shutters inviting it in and ensuring that the beds and trunks in every room wouldn't be gathering dust. The fireplace in the kitchen would still have fresh coals –the same that he had placed upon the hearth when he departed; in case the winter nights came early. And outside, as it always was, the gate would be unlocked, and the front door would be ajar –an invitation. Ajar, so that any wandering Hero who remembered the way might know that he was welcome.

But it was not uncommon to return to find the house still just waiting patiently –the fireplace unused and the halls quiet and even the grass out front growing on undisturbed. And so Kuroko had grown accustomed to being greeted only by darkness.

The tired sigh that escaped his lips sounded disappointed even to his own ears. At least he was finally back.

And then, even as he began placidly ambling up the path, something bright –flickering in the distance –caught his eye. It was warm, and soft, and inviting, and nothing like the ghost-lights that sometimes haunted these parts. And it was spilling out from the kitchen window, illuminating the creepers clinging to the dark wooden walls.

A light.

Kuroko's heart leapt into his throat, suddenly feeling lighter, and his steps quickened as he hastened towards the building, dirt and stones scattered under his feet. He could see it now; could see that the front door was wide open, with the porch; scorch-marks and all, lightly bathed in a golden glow, as the darkness gave way to lamplight.

It grew brighter as he drew nearer, and there was a welcoming smile already painting his face as his soft boots padded up the porch steps with urgency. Curious and eager, he approached the doorway, peering in as he adjusted his satchel; an intake of breath ready to call out a soft greeting.

But the kitchen was empty.

Kuroko's brow sank as he stared around the kitchen in confusion. Apart from the lit lantern sitting on the long table, there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. The coals were still sitting in the fireplace, and there were no signs that any of the crockery had been used.

"Hello?" he called, hesitantly, brushing past the lantern and heading deeper into the house to search for signs of life. The hallway was still dark; none of the candles lining the walls having been lit. The first door he came to was shut, and there was no light peeking out from underneath it. He knocked, tentatively, and pushed it open when he received no answer. It gave way easily, and swung open to reveal an empty room; the bed still neatly made. The next room was the same; and the next. Despite his legs protesting, he quickened his pace, moving through the dark and hopefully peering through every doorway. But with each dark room and empty bed, his hopes began to fall again, with disappointment slowly taking up residence all over again.

By the time he reached the last room, two flights up, he wasn't rushing any longer, and his voice had grown quieter and sadder. Letting the shadows hide his face, he gripped the strap of his satchel tightly with one hand; the other dejectedly sliding down the frame of the last doorway.

"…I guess they must have already gone," he murmured as his shoulders slumped; his fatigue returning with renewed vigour. His stomach rumbled.

The floor creaked slightly as he wandered back down the empty passageways to his own room, where he paused to deposit his satchel on the bed, and ignited the candle on his desk with a quick snap of his fingers. He closed the shutters and left it to burn –it brought a welcome cosiness to the room –and as he hung his cloak up on the wall, he heard the front door squeak.

Oh, he'd left that wide open.

Keeping his knife strapped to his belt, he headed back downstairs. Maybe he should get the kitchen hearth burning –he could make some dinner, and it would warm the room, and those bloodstained clothes were getting pretty old anyways –

As he rounded the corner, he froze.

There was a figure already standing at the hearth. A tall one; with blazing red hair and worn leather armour, and a huge cleaver at his back. He was holding a lamp in one hand –not unlike the one sitting on the kitchen table –and an armful of wood in the other. Kuroko's eyes crinkled fondly at the corners and a relieved, almost disbelieving chuckle escaped his lips.

"Kagami-kun, welcome back."

At his words the figure baulked in surprise, immediately dropping the wood with an ungodly clamour (although thankfully retaining his grip on the lantern) as he reached for his weapon. Shock and something instinctually aggressive flashed in red eyes as he took up a defensive stance –much to Kuroko's amusement –but that quickly faded as he assessed the situation and recognised the speaker, lingering in the shadows of the hallway.

"K-Kuroko?" Kagami stammered crossly, dropping from his fighting stance and eyeing his old friend with mild irritation, "How many times have I told you to stop doing that?" Kuroko graced him with a brief smile as he stepped forward, and accepted the grudging shoulder pat he received from Kagami in greeting.

"It's good to see you, too, Kagami-kun."

* * *

"I didn't know you'd be home," Kagami admitted a little while later, when the fire had been lit and the redhead had prepared a hot meal for the pair of them to share. Kuroko had admit for not the first time that it was a good thing that Heroes had packs of infinite depth, or else Kagami would have starved long ago –how he survived out in the wild with such an appetite was beyond him. "Last I heard, you were out near Brightwall?"

"I did have business in Brightwall," Kuroko replied cryptically, sipping on his warm milk, "…But that was concluded sooner than I had anticipated." He looked up to find Kagami looking at him quizzically, eyebrow cocked.

"Lucky you," he finally shrugged dismissively, taking a long swig on his ale and accompanying it with a giant mouthful of chicken and vegetables. "I just got back from Knothole Glade." Kuroko looked up curiously.

" –Wasn't Kasamatsu-san assigned there?" he queried in interest, and Kagami nodded. "I'd heard that they had a slight Balverine problem," he added, completely understanding. Kagami rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a snort.

"When don't they have a Balverine problem?" he muttered, shaking his head incredulously.

"Kasamatsu-san usually handles that by himself, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Kagami replied, mouth full of food, "I was on bandit duty while he went hunting." He sounded a little disgruntled about the chore, and Kuroko repressed a chuckle; knowing that his friend would have much preferred to be out hunting giant monsters than dealing with bandits. Guard duties tended to make him antsy, and he was proved correct when Kagami added, "I might go take on the Arena again –Tatsuya was saying that they've got some really strong monsters around these days, and taking on bandits isn't much of a challenge..."

"So you two finally made up?"

"….It's not like we were fighting," Kagami muttered flatly.

"Kagami-kun, you two literally fought each other."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" he snorted, "How was I supposed to know that he was helping the bandits abduct traders?" He rolled his eyes, fiddling with the silver ring he wore on a chain around his neck, "But yeah, we're good now."

"I'm glad," Kuroko replied, "…It made Guild meetings very awkward." From the glare Kagami graced him with, he seemed aware that he was being sassed. "How about the others? Any news from them?" The redhead scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, no one's dead, from what I can tell?" he replied, "I saw Takao in Witchwood, and he's still hunting down the Archaelologist, and uh, I think Kiyoshi's been been caught up in the Wraithmarshes…his kid is turning two this spring, right?"

"Yes," Kuroko informed him, "That must mean that Kise-kun's eldest will be eight soon."

"Jeez," Kagami snorted, shaking his head in disbelief, "I don't know how he does it. Or keeps track. Or finds the time." Kuroko looked over at him, face deadpanned.

"Kagami-kun, let us not pretend that you don't frequent the Bordello…"

"Oi!" Kagami spluttered, "T-that's not the point! And who says I go to the Bordello? Everyone knows that Aomine's the one who –" Kuroko simply gazed at him coolly, not buying his defensiveness in the slightest.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," he assured him, taking a sip of his drink and chiding, "…Make sure you're being safe, though." Kagami grimaced; looking pained.

"Can we not talk about this?" he muttered, finishing off his drink as if to signal that that line of conversation was officially over. Kuroko hid a small smile of amusement. "Oh, uh…speaking of…Aomine…" He trailed off for a moment, "You uhh, heard from him lately?"

"Not since he escaped from jail again," Kuroko shrugged fondly, with a somewhat exasperated sigh, before adding quite meaningfully, "Momoi-san said that apparently there was quite the misunderstanding…"

" –It was his fault...Served him right…."

" –But, knowing Aomine-kun, he'll be alive and well," he finished, with a touch of amusement, "So I'm sure there's no reason to worry."

"W-Worry?" Kagami scoffed, "Tch, it's nothing like that! I just… I owe him for our last fight in the Arena and I'm definitely gonna take him down this time –"

"I'll speak with Midorima-kun tomorrow, and I'll tell him to let Aomine-kun know that you're looking for him."

"Wha –Kuroko, no; that's not what I said!"

Kagami's somewhat insistent roar echoed through the walls of the building; filling the silence and chasing away the emptiness. Kuroko couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's expense, his presence making up for that which he himself lacked. The smell of their dinner lingered in the air, and the cheerful crackling of the fireplace seemed to share Kuroko's mirth. Though they were both tired from their travels, and Kuroko's limbs were cramping up and demanding a soothing bath, he stayed up, talking until the moon was hanging low in the sky –about what they had seen, and what they had heard.

Kagami had a new trophy to show off –the antlered headdress of a high-ranking bandit henchman. Kuroko had a trophy too, of course –but his was in his room; stowed away amongst the bloodstained clothes that were set for burning in the morning. Kagami didn't want this one mounted on the wall, he said –claimed it wasn't impressive enough for that. That made Kuroko's eyes smile; and made him turn to gaze at the three trophies mounted on the kitchen walls. The first was hanging beside the door to the hallway; the first Arena seal that the pair of them had won; the one where, in the final round, after having endured numerous rounds before it, Kagami, instead of fighting him for the prize, had held out his hand, and together they had hoisted that trophy aloft for all the Arena to see.

"Kagami-kun," Kuroko added, glancing at the second, which hung above the door. "I believe that hobbe-killing season is almost upon us." Kagami seemed about to snort that he knew what time of year it damn well was, but then followed Kuroko's gaze to the hobbe staff mounted upon the wall. "Perhaps this year?"

Kagami looked decidedly put out, and Kuroko was reminded why he kept that old trophy up there despite Aomine's nagging that it was old and meaningless and not worth displaying. (Funnily enough, his protests had ceased when he'd realised that its presence very much invoked Kagami's competitive streak.)

"I'll beat that idiot's record this year," he muttered vehemently, "He better turn up for it…"

Kuroko decided not to tell him that Aomine wouldn't miss it for the world.

"He'll be there," he assured him, instead, and Kagami frowned at him.

"I thought you didn't know where he was?"

"…For now."

He'll be back sometime soon.

Again, Kagami's groans resounded through the hallways, obviously not seeing Kuroko's small smile as he turned to eye the trophy hanging in pride of place above the mantelpiece. It was a collection of gold medals set into a white oak plaque; medals that marked the graduation of an apprentice into a fully-fledged Hero. And Kuroko's memories flashed before his eyes; memories of this kitchen filled with noise and laughter and people –the rooms ringing with arguments and stories; the bookcase full of hand-written tales, and new trophies proudly being hung wherever there was space.

It didn't matter where they were right now. The Guild would be able to find them. And Kuroko had learned that if he waited just long enough, some days, he would push open that door and find the Homestead waiting for company no longer. Even if they didn't know it, they remembered the way. And, no matter how far they adventured, they'd come back. They always did.

Eventually.


End file.
